


'Til Death Do Us Part

by Angstqueen



Category: Dead Zone
Genre: Civil Unions, Established Relationship, M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 11:52:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstqueen/pseuds/Angstqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A random series of events followed by a vacation in Vermont get Johnny thinking. Now he needs to find out if Bruce is on the same page.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Til Death Do Us Part

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally printed under my penname Paige Aaron in the Neon RainBow press zine "Physical Therapy #1" which was an all slash Dead Zone zine. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show. If I did, Bruce would never have moved to Boston and Walt would still be alive. I'm also NOT making any money off this story or I wouldn't be posting it here.

Johnny shivered as his lover kissed a trail down his spine. A hand slipped under him and he shifted slightly to give access, hissing as his cock was lovingly stroked.

"Bruce… please," he murmured. He needed this, needed Bruce, so badly.

"Shh," the other man soothed. "Easy, babe, all in good time."

Bruce continued to make love to his partner, using every technique he knew would pleasure the blond. He knew he didn't really have to prepare John any further but he preferred to take the time rather than risk harm. Besides, he loved how hot it made the other man. Usually when he was done John was beyond rational thought.

"Gonna make you scream," Bruce promised, rolling on a condom and easing his lover onto his side. They had found this position most comfortable for Johnny and that suited Bruce just fine.

"Promises–" Johnny broke off as the familiar sensation of being entered rushed through his nerve endings. "God–"

"John?" Afraid he'd hurt his lover, Bruce froze.

Beyond words, Smith reached back and placed a reassuring hand on his lover's hip, urging him forward. He pressed back at the same time, the resulting sensation wringing a strangled curse from Bruce.

"Okay, you wanna play like that?" Keeping his tone teasing, Bruce rocked forward again, this time brushing over John's prostate.

They fell quickly into the familiar rhythm, desire building to a crescendo between them. Bruce bit down hard on his lip, focusing on bringing John to completion before losing himself in orgasm. Feeling his lover's muscles tense, he quickened his strokes and a moment later, John shouted his release, hot seed spilling onto the bed.

Two more thrusts and Bruce was with him, emptying into the latex sheath.

Exhausted, John dozed while Bruce tried to regain his breath. When he slid free, John murmured a sleepy protest, as always hating the loss of connection.

Dimly he was aware of Bruce's hands cleaning him up and making him more comfortable. He let sleep carry any other awareness away.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

When John woke next, it was light outside. He stretched luxuriously, smiling as his body reminded him of the previous night's activities. He rolled over, intending to give his lover a morning greeting only to meet empty mattress.

Disappointed, he sat up and checked the alarm clock. Just past eight. Damn, that meant Bruce had already left for work. While part of him was annoyed that Bruce hadn't woken him, he couldn't help but love the other man's caring and concern.

After taking care of routine toiletries, John headed downstairs to the kitchen. He sniffed appreciatively at the pot of coffee. It was fresh enough to still enjoy so he opened the cupboard to get a mug. Taped to the inside of the door was a note in Bruce's familiar scrawl:

 

_J,_

_Coffee's fresh as of 7:30. There's sausage and scrambled eggs in the pan on the stove. I think I left enough for you. *grin* Call me later?_

_L &K,_

_B._

 

Johnny smiled at the "L&K." They had been signing their notes that way for so long now he couldn't remember who had started it. Love and kisses. Something he had thought never to experience on this level again.

No matter that Bruce was a man. He loved Johnny. And Johnny had found he reciprocated those feelings. That's all that mattered.

The smell of food as he lifted the lid of the pan made his stomach rumble. There was plenty left, as he had known there would be. He wouldn't put it past his lover to have made additional once he had finished his own meal. Bruce was like that.

Times like this made Johnny wonder if life would be this way with Sarah. His memories of their time together were fuzzy and imperfect. Besides, the comparison was unequal because he and Sarah had never lived together. Well, not that he and Bruce did either, technically. The physical therapist still had his own apartment, but most mornings they woke up here, in John's bed. 

Oddly enough, it had been Walt who had gotten them together. The other man had admitted that he had done everything in his power to get them together. And not just because of Sarah. He felt they were good together.

Once Walt let on that he knew, he had agreed to let Johnny tell Sarah, but had suggested he do it sooner rather than later. Cleaves Mills was a small community and with Johnny being a more or less public figure, his relationship with Bruce wouldn't stay secret for long.

She had taken it with more grace and dignity than he could have expected. It helped that she was fond of Bruce. Although more than once or twice over the years he had seen the flare of jealousy in her eyes as Bruce touched him, or hovered near him. A privilege that no longer extended to her.

As Walt had predicted, it didn't take long for rumors to begin spreading and when John made no move to deny them the town moved on to the next bit of gossip. There were occasional threats and harassing phone calls made to both men, but most folks just left them to live their lives in peace. That was good enough for Johnny.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

After breakfast he took a shower and dressed for the day. At ten he picked up the phone and hit the speed dial for Bruce's office number.

"Hi, Maggie," he greeted the receptionist. "Is he busy?"

"Your timing is perfect," the woman warmly assured. "He's in between sessions. Hold on and I'll get him."

Johnny winced as he heard her muffled yell, "Hey, Bruce! Pick up on line four; your better half is on the phone."

A moment later the phone clicked and Bruce growled, "Better half, my ass… You been exaggerating again, John?"

"My, aren't we a little cranky this morning!" John retorted. Softening his voice, he asked, "Everything okay?"

Lewis released a heavy sigh. "You know me too damned well, John. I'm sorry for snapping. One of my best assistants handed in her resignation today. She's moving to California to help take care of her father. With Tammy out on maternity leave–"

"–that just leaves you, Stacy and Kevin to handle all the clients," John finished, suddenly understanding his partner's foul mood. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, not your fault," Bruce said. "I owe you the apology for snapping like that."

"I'll let you make it up to me later," the blond promised, smirking.

"Yeah, you can make it up to me by having a vision that's gonna tell me which of these applicants I'm lookin' at is worth interviewing," Bruce teased.

"Hmmm, I don't think that's going to happen, but I'll tell you what. When you get home tonight I'll give you your own private massage and we'll see what comes up after that." John paused a moment. "Will that help?"

Bruce groaned in anticipation. "Definitely will. I love you, babe. See you at home."

_Home._ The word curled warmly around Johnny's heart.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Bruce knew that memories of nights like this would forever be among his fondest. He lay curled up with Johnny on the living room couch with a fire roaring in the fireplace. A full stomach and a couple of beers had John dozing in Bruce's arms. He never took his lover's trust for granted, knowing there was absolutely no one else who could touch Johnny like this.

The television was on, more for background noise than anything else. Given that it was Election Day most of the networks were running crawlers to keep viewers updated on the various issues.

Since the East Coast polls closed by seven o'clock, results from various states were soon being shown. Bruce watched closely, surprised to see the growing passage of one particular federal bill.

Grabbing the remote he switched the channel to Pride News. The commentator, a stunning Latina, was confirming what Bruce had already seen.

"Exit polls in Northeastern states are already showing the passage of the Federal Civil Union legislation. This bill would give same-sex couples all rights and privileges accorded to heterosexual married couples. Such unions can be performed by any official legally authorized to perform a marriage…"

"John, are you listening to this?" Bruce shook his lover.

"Wha-?" the blond sleepily murmured. "Please, don't tell me there's another Bush headed to the White House."

Bruce snorted. "No, this is good news, babe. The Civil Union bill, early returns suggest it could pass!"

"Really?" Smith sat up, blinking and focusing on the television. He had voted in favor of the bill even though he didn't feel it really applied to them. He and Bruce had what they wanted and didn't need a certificate to make it real.

Both men watched the coverage until Johnny started nodding off again.

"C'mon, lover… bed!" Bruce nudged his sleepy partner, urging him to his feet.

"Is that an offer?" John quipped, stretching.

Bruce watched the move in appreciation. Pushing to his feet, he wrapped an arm around the blond's waist and pulled him close for a searing kiss.

"What if I said it is?" he whispered huskily.

"I accept." Blue eyes burned with desire and they shared another kiss before heading up to the bedroom.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

As usual, Bruce woke before his lover. When he saw the time he nearly panicked until he remembered it was Wednesday, his day off.

Easing out of bed, he headed down to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the small television set sitting on the counter.

"…and in a stunning upset to the conservatives, the Federal Civil Union bill has passed…"

Bruce let out a restrained whoop of victory. "This calls for a celebration," he decided, pulling open the fridge to see what he had to work with.

It didn't take long to cut up some fruit, toast some waffles and heat up a few links of sausage. Soon Bruce was loading a tray and carrying it up to the bedroom.

Luckily he'd left the door ajar. Nudging it with his hip he entered the room, not surprised to see Johnny still sleeping. They'd made love for quite a while last night. He grinned at the memory.

"John… Hey, John! You awake, man?" he called.

"Mmm, am now," came the sleepy retort. "Time izzit?"

"Time to get up; mornin's wasting away!" Approaching John's side of the bed, Bruce saw the blond's eyes were still closed. "I've got breakfast," he sing-songed.

"Mmmrpf," Johnny muttered, opening one eye. "Better include coffee."

Bruce laughed. "Of course it does! I know you, lover. You ain't worth nothing in the morning until you've had your coffee."

The other man sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He adjusted the pillows behind him then his eyes widened as he saw the feast on the tray.

"What's the celebration?"

"It passed, John." The dark eyes sparkled with excitement. "The Civil Union bill… it passed."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Where is he?" Johnny demanded, spotting Sheriff Walt Bannerman by the nurses' desk. "Where's Bruce?"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, John," Bannerman urged. "He's being examined right now–"

"I want to see him." John knew he sounded desperate but he didn't care. He needed to see Bruce. Now.

"Are you a relative?" the nurse asked skeptically.

The question froze John, and Walt grimaced.

"Look, I'll go talk to the doctor, but I can't promise anything, Mr. Smith." The woman walked back to the Trauma Unit.

John didn't stop to wonder how she knew his name. That wasn't important right now. Bruce–

"I should have taken him to the hospital last night," he murmured, running a hand through his hair. "He was so sick. We thought it was just some stomach bug. He said he felt better this morning, that he had to go to work. With them still being down a therapist he said there were clients he needed to see because of Christmas being so close. Damn, I shouldn't have let him–"

"John, you couldn't know it was appendicitis! Even the best trained professionals can misdiagnose it at first. Bruce is strong; he's going to be okay." Walt gripped Johnny's arm in reassurance.

"I hope to God you're right, Walt," the blond whispered.

"Do you have medical power of attorney for each other?" Walt asked him.

The blood rushed from Johnny's face and he swayed. Bannerman guided him to a seat, forcing his head down between his knees.

"Well, I guess that answers my question," the sheriff said.

"I'm okay," Smith gulped. "I'm okay, Walt."

Walt released him.

John looked at his friend, his gaze haunted. "We talked about it. We just never got around to getting my attorney to draw up the papers. God, of all people I should have known better than to wait."

"It's gonna be okay, John," Walt reassured. He wanted to say more, but he knew better than to utter platitudes to this man. For all he knew, Smith might have already had a vision– The thought chilled him.

"John… your visions," he said.

The psychic understood what Walt couldn't say and shook his head. "Nothing. Do you really think if I'd seen anything like this I would have let him out of my sight, let alone out of the house?"

Walt carefully didn't mention that he thought Bruce might have something to say about that.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Luckily for John, the surgeon had no objection to a "non-family" visitor for his patient once Bruce was moved from Recovery to a private room. They had originally planned to place Bruce in one of the standard two-bed rooms but John had pulled out his checkbook and told them in no uncertain terms that he would pay the difference for the private room.

Checking his watch, John saw he had another hour to go before visiting hours were over. He settled himself more comfortably in the chair. He wasn't about to leave until the staff kicked him out.

As he watched Bruce sleep, John reflected on the events of the past twenty-four hours. When the nausea and vomiting had hit Bruce they had both figured it was a stomach bug and would pass relatively soon. It had been a long night, with neither getting much sleep, but Bruce had insisted he felt well enough to go to work. John had made him promise to leave early if he still didn't feel better.

They had shared a chaste kiss and both had gone about their day's activities. John had a meeting with Reverend Gene Purdy regarding a Christmas fund raiser that the good Reverend wanted the town's infamous psychic to attend.

While in that meeting John's cell phone had rung. With an apologetic look at Gene, he had checked the caller ID. He had no problem letting it go to voicemail if it wasn't pressing. In the same instant that he saw Walt's number, he felt a sense of undefined urgency. This wasn't a social call, Walt needed him.

"Walt," he mouthed to Purdy as he hit the answer button. "What's up, Walt? Mrs. Williams' dog take off again?"

John knew he would never forget the panicked feeling when the sheriff informed him that Bruce had been taken by ambulance to County Hospital. He'd had a vision then. Bruce doubled over in extreme pain, retching helplessly on an empty stomach.

Walt had been the first to respond to the receptionist's 911 call and had quickly radioed for EMS. It was as Bruce was being loaded into the ambulance that the sheriff had pulled out his cell phone to notify John.

After that it had been a waiting game. Time was on their side, according to the surgeon. He had removed the appendix before it had ruptured and Bruce had come through the surgery with no problem. He had woken briefly in Recovery but had quickly dropped back to sleep.

The doctor wasn't sure yet how long he would need to be hospitalized. He was dehydrated and still running a fever. Antibiotics and saline were helping to ease those issues but the doctor wanted to play it cautious though he did assure that Bruce would be home by the weekend.

John agreed with that plan, feeling that Bruce was exactly where he needed to be. He couldn't recall the last time he had been so scared. The trip to the hospital had seemingly taken twice the normal time.

Leaning forward, he took Bruce's hand in his, entwining their fingers. Bruce had what John considered to be a healer's hands. Not too large, but with long, strong fingers. Those incredible hands had worked their magic on hundreds, if not thousands of grateful patients over the years. John counted himself lucky that he got to experience that magic on a much more intimate level.

"You scared the hell out of me, Bruce," he whispered hoarsely. "But everything's okay now. Just rest and concentrate on getting better." He squeezed his lover's hand gently, surprised to feel an answering pressure.

John looked up and saw sleepy dark eyes blinking slowly. He grinned widely.

"Hey, welcome back." The knot that had taken residence in John's stomach slowly began to unravel.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

John unlocked the door to his house, inhaling appreciatively as he walked inside. Bruce was cooking again – lasagna, unless he missed his guess.

Hanging his coat in the hall closet, he called out, "Smells good, Bruce!"

The other man appeared in kitchen doorway, grinning. "Good timing. It's just about ready." Seeing the bundle of correspondence in the blond's hand, he chuckled. "More fan mail from Purdy's crazy flock?"

The psychic smirked. "Actually no… this is your mail. I stopped by your apartment today. I think your landlady was relieved to unload it."

"Thanks, John. You didn't have to do that." Reaching out, Bruce took the packet and began sorting through. One in particular caught his eye. "Uh-oh. This can't be good."

John fought to keep his face expressionless. He already knew the contents, and the answer to the question he wanted to ask. But as Bruce always reminded him, nothing was set in stone. He had to believe that if he approached it properly and made the right argument, Bruce would agree.

"What's that?" Johnny congratulated himself on the normal tone of voice.

"Letter from the company that owns the apartment building." Frowning, Bruce ripped it open and skimmed the contents. "Shit! They're upping the rent another hundred and fifty a month. I can't–" He cut off the sentence abruptly.

Johnny knew that Bruce sometimes struggled to make ends meet. Being out of work for a few weeks after the appendectomy wasn't helping matters, and now this news…

They had talked about Bruce moving in on more than one occasion over the past couple of years. Each time Bruce had refused. He made a good argument, stating that they didn't need to borrow trouble. The townsfolk by and large had accepted their relationship, probably because neither flaunted it. But living together? That opened up a whole new can of worms.

There was another, deeper reason that Bruce never brought up. He was uncomfortable with the thought of calling the Smith estate "home." He didn't feel like he was entitled to it. Not because he was black, but because his salary came nowhere near paying for what he felt his share would be. While it wasn't an issue for John, he knew Bruce's own sense of ethics would not let him live anywhere without contributing.

The psychic opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut as he reconsidered. Reminding Bruce of his earlier offer was what had gotten him into trouble in his vision. He needed to find another way.

"Bruce, look, I know we've talked about living together before." He raised his hand to stem his lover's automatic protest. "Hear me out? Please?"

"Okay," the other man grudgingly agreed.

"I understand your reasons, but some of them have changed. For one thing, we've been together a long time now. It's no longer the hot topic in town. For the most part we're accepted as a couple." John ticked the items off on his fingers as he continued, "For another thing, you basically live here ninety percent of the time as it is. No one is going to bat an eye if they see you pulling out of the driveway every morning, rather than four or five days a week."

"You've got a point," Bruce admitted. "But I don't know, John, the whole money thing…"

"Is a non-issue!" Smith stopped himself, knowing instinctively that yelling wasn't going to make his point. "Bruce, I don't want money, or lack of it, to come between us. Money never mattered when we were just friends and I refuse to let it be an issue now."

"Hey, I pay my way, John!"

"I know that. Just think a minute, okay?" John made a sweeping gesture. "This house? It's paid for. The trust fund takes care of the taxes and utilities on it. I don't pay rent here and I don't expect you to either. I know you refuse to live off my money so, if you agree, you could pay me what you're currently paying in rent and I'll see that it's used for upkeep on the house."

Seeing that Bruce was starting to lose his automatic defensive reaction, John pushed on.

"You already contribute to the groceries. We'd be shopping for one household, not two. And you wouldn't be throwing half of your refrigerator out each week, either." He grinned as Bruce grimaced at the reminder.

"You've given this a lot of thought," the other man admitted.

"Yeah, Bruce… I have." Moving closer, John took his lover's hand. "If you really don't want to live with me, I'll understand. But I love you, and I want to go to sleep holding you and know that when I come home, that home includes you."

"John–" Bruce blinked rapidly. "I love you, too, but are you really sure about this? You've been on your own a long time. Might cramp your style having me around twenty-four/seven."

"Hasn't bothered me yet. In fact, I like having you around." The blond grinned. "Besides, in this house? We could live in separate wings and not even see each other for a week."

"No way," Bruce said, shaking his head for emphasis. "When I live with someone, I'm living with them, understand what I'm sayin'? None of this separate rooms shit."

John blinked, not sure if he'd heard right. "Does that mean–? Was that a yes?"

"You're the psychic." Bruce grinned. "You tell me?"

The blond shook his head, unable to form words past the lump in his throat. He swallowed twice, then whispered, "You turned me down."

"Say what?" The other man looked stunned.

"In my vision, when I asked you again to move in, you refused."

"Shit. And you still asked," Bruce marveled. "God, John… you just proved that not all your visions are concrete!"

"Yeah, we did, didn't we?" John laughed shakily. Wrapping the younger man in a tight embrace, he whispered, "Welcome home, lover."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Morning, Bruce," Maggie greeted as he walked into the physical therapy building. "Stoney called just a little while ago. He's having a hard time getting around this morning so he's running late."

"That's cool," Bruce said, flashing her a grin. "Means I actually have a chance to drink my morning coffee while it's hot."

She grinned, lifting her own Styrofoam cup in a mock toast.

Forty-five minutes later the place was bustling with its usual energy. Bruce had gotten his first client started on her exercises, watching the clock with a frown. Stoney should have been here by now.

Victor Stone, known as Stoney to nearly everyone in town, had once been a rotund, hard-working corporate executive in New York City. Unfortunately the pressure, his lifestyle and genetics caught up with him and he suffered a serious stroke at the age of 43.

It made him take a hard look at his life and he had relocated to Cleaves Mills to start over. Although he didn't make nearly the amount of money he had while in the city, he made enough to live comfortably, and the lack of stress was more than equal compensation, he claimed.

When John and Bruce had decided to publicly acknowledge their relationship Stoney had quietly confided in Bruce that he wished he had possessed that much courage. He'd had a male lover in New York. Fear had kept him in the closet, costing him his marriage, his children, his lover and in the long run, his health.

A tug on his arm got his attention and he turned, startled to see Maggie. Why hadn't she just called out to him like she–

Then he saw why.

Stoney sat on one of the chairs just inside the doorway, his face pale and sweaty.

"Call 911," Bruce snapped, immediately heading for the man.

"I already did," she assured.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Caught in the middle of painting the ceiling of their bedroom, John swore mildly when the phone rang. Cautiously backing down the ladder, he grabbed the cordless receiver and froze.

Grief. Pain. Shock. Bruce's pain. Hurt.

Shaking his head to clear it, John hit the receive button.

"Bruce? What's wrong?" He couldn't keep the anxiety out of his voice.

"John–" The other man cleared his throat. "He's gone, John. Stoney's gone."

And in that instant John saw it all – the collapse, the frantic attempt to help, and finally the moment that doctors had to admit defeat. 

"Bruce… Damn it, I'm sorry, lover," he whispered. "Where are you now?"

"Uh… I– I'm at the hospital. Can you–?"

"I'm on my way."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Stoney's funeral was well-attended. Even one of his daughters had shown up. Kendall had chosen to reconnect with her father six months ago after the discovery that her college roommate and best friend was lesbian. The conversations the two women had shared had helped the young woman understand more about her father and she had wanted to get to know him better.

She knew of his friendship with Bruce and John and so she had asked Bruce if he would deliver the eulogy. Bruce had immediately accepted, telling her he'd be honored.

Bruce had held it together, though John could see the stress eating at him as the service and graveside memorial progressed. Usually Bruce was the one making excuses to get them out of the public eye for Johnny's sake. This time, Johnny took the initiative.

And now they were home. The word in relation to Bruce and himself still sent a shiver coursing down Johnny's spine. Knowing he had someone to come home to, someone who loved him as he was, meant more to him than he could put into words.

He opened the door and stood aside to usher Bruce in first. John watched as the other man shrugged out of his coat and hung it in the hall closet as if functioning on automatic.

Watching his lover try a second time to get the hanger back into the closet, Johnny stepped forward and took it out of Bruce's hands. The defeated look on the younger man's face tore at John's heart and he pulled Bruce into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "He was a good friend, a damned fine man. We were lucky to know him and I'm sorry he's gone too soon."

After an eternity, Bruce took a shuddering breath and rasped, "Yeah." He took a step back, shaking his head. "Y'know, I can't figure out why this is hitting so hard. Stoney's not the first patient to die on me. I didn't even lose it this bad when my own dad died."

"Hey, cut yourself some slack," Johnny advised. "When you went home for your father's funeral you were coping with more than just his death, remember? Besides, Stoney was more than just a patient; he was a friend, someone who supported us being together. That meant a lot."

"I'm glad Kendall could make it, y'know?" Bruce said, keeping an arm around his lover as they headed upstairs.

"Me, too." John was thankful that his son had already accepted his biological father was outside the norm before learning he was in a gay relationship. JJ had barely blinked at the news. Of course it also helped that the boy and Bruce got along so well.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Over the next few days Bruce remained quiet and withdrawn. Knowing his partner was hurting deeply, John wondered if they should cancel their plans for a long ski weekend around Valentine's Day.

He hoped the trip would help Bruce in some way, but he didn't want to pressure his lover into something he didn't want either. Finally, one week before they were supposed to leave, Johnny broached the subject at dinner.

"Bruce, do you still want to go to New Hampshire next weekend?" Taking a sip of wine, Johnny studied his lover over the rim of the glass. He didn't miss the other man's guilty start. "Hey, it's okay if you don't–"

"No, no! It's not that. I mean, it's Valentine's Day!" Bruce tried to smile. "We've had this planned for a couple months now. We should go."

"Valentine's Day is something Hallmark created." John waved his hand in a sweeping gesture. "We can go skiing any weekend. What's important to me is spending time with you. And we can do that just as easily here, since you already have the time off."

Bruce's heart swelled with love, recognizing what his partner was trying to do. And in that moment, he knew what his answer would be. His smile was more genuine and less forced than it had been in days.

"Now you know that if we stay around here, one of two things is going to happen." Bruce ticked them off on his fingers. "One, I'm going to get called in to cover for someone. Two, Walt is going to need you for some emergency that can't be solved by The Psychic Friends network."

John was grateful he hadn't had a mouthful of anything at that point. He knew Bruce was right, though.

Standing up and gathering their empty dishes, Bruce stooped to plant a butterfly kiss on his lover's lips. "Let's go to New Hampshire, babe, and make like snow bunnies."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

The weather was perfect for skiing. Bright sunshine and clear blue skies with a mostly natural snowpack meant most of the resorts were full to overflowing this particular weekend.

The Inn at Hawk's Peak was no exception. The Inn had been a stagecoach stopover back in the 1800's and had recently been restored to its Victorian grandeur by its current owner and his partner. Each large and airy room had a fireplace and some of the rooms had private bathrooms as well.

Most of the rooms were booked by a group attending a wedding this weekend. At first John hadn't been sure who the intended spouses were. Knowing the owner and manager were a gay couple, he found himself surprised to learn the happy couple-to-be was heterosexual.

The bride was a pixie-ish woman with red hair and sea green eyes. Something about her laugh and her charm made Johnny think about Sarah. Bridget, as she introduced herself, was thrilled they were here this weekend and invited them to attend the pre-wedding party being given by Mike and Logan, the owners.

John figured Bruce would refuse and was surprised when the other man actually agreed to attend with him. Bruce had been quiet on the journey and since they'd arrived, and John hadn't pushed, knowing the other man would talk if and when he was ready. But clearly he wasn't intending to spend the weekend isolated and sulking. That was a good start.

Normally the two men would have been cautious at any display of public affection but the wedding party held both gay and straight couples. No one was going to harass them here. 

"This is perfect, John," Bruce whispered as they slow danced late in the evening. "Holding you like this…"

"I know." The blond meant it. Though he had felt awkward dancing with a man at first, he let Bruce take the lead and soon found himself relaxing in his lover's arms.

When the group dispersed in the small hours of the morning, Bridget kissed both men lightly, thanking them for being part of the festivities.

"You two are such a wonderful couple," she told them. "How long have you been married?"

"Uh– We–" Bruce stammered.

"We're not," John corrected. He didn't elaborate.

"Well, someday I hope you decide to take the plunge together. I think you'd be very happy." She kissed them both again before turning and taking her fiancé's hand. They moved off to say goodnight to the rest of their group.

"Okay, you got a sister you didn't tell me about?" Bruce wondered, eyeing John suspiciously as they headed for the stairs.

"What? No!" Johnny denied. "Why, just because she could see the obvious?"

"And what's that?" the other man teasingly challenged.

John stopped them on the landing and wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him into a sweet, lingering kiss.

"That I love you, Bruce Lewis," he answered solemnly.

Bruce swallowed thickly before responding, "Love you too, John."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

They made love that night for the first time since Stoney's death. It was tender and desperate and raw and left both men panting with exhaustion in the aftermath.

Bruce dropped off to sleep with John spooned behind him, his arm around his waist and their legs entwined.

Sleep eluded John as Bridget's question kept ringing in his mind. Why weren't he and Bruce married? Or at least talking about it? It had been legal in Canada for years. Their own state had legalized civil unions the year before. And just this past fall the recognition of civil unions had passed on the Federal level.

So, why not them?

But even as he thought it, Smith knew the answer, or at least the partial reason. He and Bruce had been lovers for more than two years now. Long before civil unions were recognized in Maine. They were in a committed monogamous relationship. They didn't need a piece of paper to validate it.

The question remained: why not them?

Bruce's recent medical scare was a case in point. If not for John's standing in the community he knew he would not have had the unquestioned access to his lover he had been granted. Stoney's death, still a fresh wound for both of them, reminded John that if he died, Bruce would have no say in his disposition. And worse, Bruce would have no claim on his estate.

Sure, he could provide for Bruce in his will, and he already had. But Johnny was a realist and knew that Gene Purdy would fight the will, tying it up in litigation for years. And that was assuming that Bruce would even stand up for what was his. The man was no coward, but he had a strong sense of right and wrong and though he often complained good-naturedly about his own lack of money he just as frequently balked at letting John help.

Although Purdy was well aware of their relationship, he hadn't taken a outright stand against it. Johnny wasn't naïve enough to think that would not change if he were to precede Bruce in death. The thought of his arrangements being handled by Purdy chilled Johnny to the bone.

And come to that, the reverse was also possible. Bruce's mother wasn't exactly thrilled at her son's choice of life-mate. They had no guarantee she would permit Johnny any say in decisions regarding Bruce.

He hugged Bruce closer, dropping a whisper soft kiss on his lover's shoulder. Johnny wondered if the other man had ever considered marriage between them. He knew for all Bruce's joking around, the man wanted to settle down.

Damn! He nearly groaned aloud as realization struck. Knowing Bruce, he hadn't said anything because John hadn't brought it up first, figuring a previously straight man would never be interested in marrying another man, even if they were in a very intimate relationship.

Having given it some thought, Johnny realized it was exactly what he wanted. He'd loved Sarah and had been willing to offer her forever. Why should Bruce be any different because he was male? That didn't make their love any less intense.

And now, finally, it was legal. He and Bruce could have a commitment ceremony that would be recognized throughout the U.S., even if some folks still protested it. Bruce's mother and Gene Purdy would not be able to challenge their choices for each other.

Decision made, Johnny's restless mind finally quieted and he dropped off to sleep, still holding his lover close.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Where's that instructor?" Bruce griped, rubbing his mitten-covered hands together to generate some warmth.

"She'll be here soon enough," John answered mildly as he tested his skis. It had been years since he had been on a slope. He had taken a weekend ski trip once since being released from rehab and had learned quickly that he could no longer ski at the level he was used to. Still, it felt good to be on the snow again.

Bruce eyed his lover with concern. The blond had been quiet and lost in thought this morning. When asked, he brushed the worry aside, stating it was nothing in particular.

Deciding to distract his lover, Bruce tested out his skis. His feet nearly went out from under him. He tried again. Same result.

"I'm not so sure about this, John," he finally admitted

The blond shook his head, fighting back his laughter. "As athletic as you are, and you don't know how to ski?"

"Don't you start with me!" Lewis growled. In truth, he was glad to see his partner's mood lightened somewhat. "In case you hadn't noticed, Indiana doesn't have a lot of mountains. And when I was in college I was too busy bustin' my ass studying or working."

"You'll do fine," John assured, reaching out to steady his partner. A look of concern flitted across his face and he jumped back as if burned.

"What?" Bruce's eyes went wide. "What did you see, man? Oh shit. I'm heading back to the B&B. No way I'm getting' out there–"

Johnny waggled his eyebrows, grinning evilly.

"John!" Bending down, Bruce scooped up a mound of snow and threw it at his lover. "You are so going to pay for that, asshole."

"Am I interrupting something, gentlemen?" A pretty brunette approached on skis, neatly turning sideways to stop next to them.

John looked up, frowning. She was prettier than he remembered. Still, she was a safer bet than the Mr. Universe he had originally been introduced to when he'd made the arrangements.

"Does murder count?" Bruce quipped, grinning.

"Not if you hide the body well enough," she returned. "I'm Jen, your ski instructor for the morning."

To John's relief, his partner barely glanced at the woman after the introductions were made. Instead his focus remained on his feet, and keeping his balance.

They spent ninety minutes going over the basics before she led them onto the bunny trail.

John watched his lover with pride as Bruce quickly began showing off what he had learned. Given his partner's beginning level Johnny had no problem keeping up with him on this slope.

Johnny missed the challenge of the more difficult slopes, but like so much else in his life, those days were gone. That he was still alive and able to get out on the slopes at all was a miracle and not one he would turn his back on.

They took a break for lunch, then headed back out to ski some more. Bruce finally called a halt when he noticed Johnny was favoring his damaged hip. The blond protested at first but one look at Bruce's set expression changed his mind.

As they headed back to the lodge, stiffness set in and by the time they were in the car and driving back to the bed and breakfast, Johnny was in serious pain.

"Damn it," Bruce growled as they pulled into the driveway of the inn. "I knew I shouldn't have let you push so hard. Now look at you…"

"Bruce, I'm not made of glass," the blond patiently reminded his lover. "It's just been a long time since I've been skiing. My muscles aren't used to it."

They slowly made their way into the inn, where they were met by Logan, the younger half of the couple who owned Hawk's Peak. In his late twenties, he was a sturdy man with close-cropped brown hair and blue eyes.

"Mr. Lewis, I saw you pull up to the steps and help Mr. Smith out. Is everything okay?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Everything's fine, Logan," John assured, his slight wince as he straightened away from Bruce belying his words.

"He's got a bad hip and he overdid it on the slope." Bruce glared at his partner. "Thinks he's Evel Knievel on skis."

"Hey, I like that!" Johnny grinned. "Johnny Dangerous, on skis. That's cool."

"Oh, man," Bruce groaned, "what did I start? You see what I've gotta put up with?"

"I understand." The owner nodded, smiling gently. "Mike's the same way with his back. Come with me, we'll use the service elevator to get you upstairs."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Once they were in the room, Bruce quickly lit the fire and helped John get out of his ski suit and clothing. Pulling a chair close to the fireplace, he waved John over.

"Have a seat," he said. When John did as indicated, he grabbed a blanket off the bed and tucked it around the other man.

"Bruce–"

"What?" The physical therapist's voice was slightly defensive.

Smith's expression softened. He had been about to insist he didn't need the attention. One look at Bruce's face made Johnny realize his lover needed to do this for him. Reaching out and grasping the other man's hand, he pulled him down close and kissed him.

"Thanks," he whispered, brushing the backs of his knuckles against the beloved face.

Bruce stole his own kiss. "Stay here and get warmed up, I'll go run a hot bath for you."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

The bath helped loosen Johnny's stiffened muscles, aided by Bruce's massage. When the water started to cool, Bruce helped his partner out and wrapped one of the thick towels around him.

"Go on and get warm," he urged. "I'll clean up here and join you in a sec."

Johnny headed back out to their bedroom, glad for the blazing fire in the hearth. Wrapping the afghan around himself once more, he headed over to the window and looked out.

It could have been a scene from a painting. The sky was clear and the moon shone full and bright. There were more stars than he could count and the snow glittered like diamonds.

Diamonds. The word made him recall his thoughts from the previous night. He had determined he was going to ask, and yet in the light of day he didn't feel so sure. Why? Nerves? A shiver coursed through him as he remembered how nervous he had been proposing to Sarah, and he'd been certain of her answer.

Bruce loved him, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that was true. If the other man refused it wouldn't be because of that, but marriage? It was a big step, especially in these new days of legal same-sex unions.

His visions had been oddly silent today and he wasn't sure how to take that. On the one hand, it could mean a positive outcome. At least he had no negative image to fight against.

Tonight. He would ask Bruce tonight. There would be no better time and if he waited any longer he knew he would talk himself out of it.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Bruce wrapped himself in the fleecy robe and shivered briefly as he opened the door to the bedroom. He looked automatically to the chair by the fire and frowned. Movement by the window caught his attention and he turned to see Johnny staring out at the snowy landscape.

"John?" When the other man apparently didn't hear him, Bruce walked over and wrapped his arms around his lover. "That looks like some pretty serious thinking, babe."

Johnny turned within the embrace and kissed him. It was warm and tender and loving, and sent shivers of passion coursing through Bruce with its intensity.

"Wow," he breathed unsteadily when Johnny drew back.

Reaching up, the blond caressed his lover's cheek. "I love you, Bruce," he whispered, stealing another, quicker kiss. "More than I've ever loved anyone. I never knew it was possible to love like this and I can't imagine my life without you beside me now."

Startled, Bruce opened his mouth, only to close it when Johnny gently touched his lips. He kissed the fingers, but made no move to speak.

"Let me finish, okay?" After Bruce nodded, Johnny continued, "I haven't thought about marriage in a long time, not since I realized that Sarah and Walt's marriage is the real thing. I've been given a second chance at life and figured that was more than I had any right to expect. Now I'm beginning to wonder if I've been given a second chance at marriage."

Bruce's eyes widened. Marriage? Marriage. Oh God.

Not giving himself time to think, John carefully sank to one knee. Keeping hold of Bruce's hand, he forced himself to ignore the stunned look on his lover's face.

"Bruce, I know we've never talked about marriage – I'm not even sure if it's something you want – but I've been giving it a lot of thought lately. With the passage of the Civil Union bill there's no reason for us not to get married, if we want to." He cleared his throat nervously. "Bruce Alan Lewis, will you do me the honor of becoming my spouse?"

Bruce blinked in astonishment. Johnny wasn't just asking for a commitment ceremony. He was asking for everything. Marriage. To John Smith, the man he loved more than he could put in to words. Suddenly everything became crystal clear. This was why he had come to Cleaves Mills. This explained why it felt like home. It was home.

He pulled John to his feet, initiating his own soul-deep kiss, loving Johnny thoroughly with his lips and tongue. When they finally broke apart both men were breathless.

"Bruce?" John looked uncertain, his eyes shadowed. "Does that mean…?"

As Johnny had done earlier, Bruce went to one knee, looking up at his lover's – soon to be husband's – face.

"John Richard Smith, I never thought the day would come that we'd be lovers, let alone spouses." Bruce had to blink to clear the sudden mist from his eyes. "I'd be honored to exchange vows with you, and I look forward to spending the rest of our lives together."

It's really going to happen! John thought, his pulse racing. Laughing with relief, he drew Bruce back to his feet and into his arms, kissing his soon-to-be-spouse.

"I love you," the blond whispered, his eyes bright. "God, I love you so much!"

"Love you, too, John." Bruce brought him close for another, deeper kiss.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"It is my pleasure to present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Sean Fleming!"

Bruce and John stood with the other guests, clapping as the newlywed couple entered the banquet room. They had been surprised but pleased to receive invitations to attend the festivities.

The meal was one of the best Johnny could ever remember having at a wedding, and while he and Bruce didn't really know anyone they were made to feel welcome. He noted there were at least one gay couple and two lesbian couples among the guests, in addition to those among the groomsmen and bridesmaids. No wonder he and Bruce felt so comfortable.

As couples finished their meals, they took to the dance floor. John watched them for several minutes. Finally, he stood, buttoned his jacket and extended his hand to his partner.

"Dance with me?"

Bruce was surprised at the offer, knowing John's reluctance to dance in a crowd. The man never failed to surprise and amaze him. He took John's hand, allowing the other man to pull him to his feet and into his arms. Apparently it was Johnny's turn to lead tonight and that was fine with Bruce.

When the money dance began, both men got in the line to dance with the bride. They were amused to see that some of the men were lined up to dance with the groom. Sean danced with them as easily and gracefully as he did his wife.

When John took his turn dancing with Bridget, the new bride smiled widely up at him. Her face was flushed with a combination of wine and excitement. She looked truly radiant and he told her so.

"Well you look pretty happy yourself," she replied, nodding in Bruce's direction. Then her expression turned pensive. "Um, about the other night… I wanted to apologize for making the assumption. It's just that so many of our friends have taken advantage of the new legislation that I guess I figured everyone would."

"You seem to know a lot of same-sex couples," John couldn't help noting, looking around at the other dancers.

She laughed, nodding. "It does seem that way, doesn't it! My college roommate was a lesbian. We were good friends and she taught me a lot about the many faces of love. It's through her, indirectly, that I met Sean."

The groom was currently dancing with one of his groomsmen and both were smiling and laughing. John got a flash of himself and Bruce dancing like that and the thought warmed him as he saw the matching rings they sported.

He stumbled slightly and Bridget steadied him. Frowning with concern, she asked, "Are you okay? Logan mentioned something about your hip?"

He waved it away. "An old injury."

Only half-convinced, she nodded and shifted position slightly.

And John found himself looking at her and Sean, years in the future. They were an elderly couple, dancing at a reception much like this one. The bride came over, asking if she could have this dance with her grandfather.

"I have a very strong feeling that you and Sean are going to be married for a long time, and be very happy together, Bridget," he whispered when he had his breath back.

"That's so sweet of you to say!" She hugged him close. "You know, you and Bruce are a pretty amazing couple, too. I guess that's why I assumed what I did."

Johnny smirked. "Well, you weren't wrong, just premature."

"What?" She stopped dancing and looked up at him, eyes wide with delight. "Are you saying–? You and Bruce?"

He nodded, hoping the low light hid his flush. "I asked him last night. Well, we sort of asked each other."

She clapped her hands in delight and then kissed him on the cheek. Taking his hand, she led him to where Bruce sat waiting.

He stood as she approached, and took her other outstretched hand without question. Pulling him down, she also kissed his cheek. Putting their hands together, she said, "I'm so happy for the both of you!"

Bruce grinned in sudden understanding. "You told her, huh?"

Before John could answer, Bridget headed for the DJ and held out her hand. He gave her the microphone and she tapped it twice before speaking.

"Everyone, I'd like your attention please!" When the crowd settled somewhat, she went on. "Sean and I met a wonderful couple this weekend who have helped us celebrate this special day. Well, just now, John told me he and Bruce are going to be getting married! Guys, come on up here."

Johnny flushed hotly. Knowing it would be bad form to refuse, he tightly gripped Bruce's hand as they walked forward. Keeping his voice low, he said, "I'm sorry, Bruce, I didn't know she'd make a fuss like this or I wouldn't have told her."

"Hey, I'm not complaining!" Bruce assured him. Putting an arm around his lover's waist, he drew John closer, relieved at the lack of tension in the other man.

As they drew closer, Sean joined them. The couples exchanged handshakes and then Bruce took the mike. Turning to the crowd, he said, "You all have been great to invite us to share this with you. John and I wish Bridget and Sean all the best wishes for a long and happy life together." Handing the microphone back to the DJ, he began applauding and soon everyone was following along.

"This next song is for the happy couple-to-be," the DJ announced. "Gentlemen, do either of you have a preference?"

Before Bruce could open his mouth, John said, "The Search Is Over by Glass Tiger."

"Good choice," the man agreed, cueing the music.

A moment later the music began and John let his lover steer them back out to the dance floor. Bruce kept the lead without challenge. They both loved the give and take between them.

Sean and Bridget soon joined them and gradually other couples came out to share the moment as well. Some of them stopped to congratulate Bruce and John.

Moving easily together, Bruce held his partner close, feeling his body respond to John's nearness. He slowly maneuvered them to a darker corner of the room to give them some privacy.

"I love you, John," he whispered fiercely.

"That's a good way to start a marriage," the blond quipped. Then his expression turned serious. "I love you, you know."

They shared a long, deep kiss full of love and promise.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"I'll get it!" Bruce shouted as he sprinted to the front door. He wasn't surprised to see Sarah standing there. "Hey, pretty lady."

"Flatterer." She grinned at him. "You look well rested. Did you guys enjoy yourselves?"

"We certainly did," Johnny said, coming in from the kitchen. "Did we miss anything?"

"Your son scored the most goals in the hockey match against North End." The brunette grinned at Johnny's gesture of triumph. Johnny had spent hours coaching the boy and it seemed like it was finally paying off.

Bruce grinned, winking at Sarah. "A chip off the old ice block, eh?"

"Oh, very punny," the blond groused.

She choked back her laugh, catching John's annoyed grimace.

"Listen, I can't stay. I just stopped by to invite you guys to dinner tomorrow night. JJ is going to be at a Scout sleepover and Walt and I would love the company."

The men exchanged glances, and John knew Bruce's thoughts echoed his own. Had Sarah developed her own psychic powers? They had been debating when and how to tell her and Walt of their plans to marry. This would be the perfect opportunity.

Seeing Bruce's minute nod, Johnny said, "Yeah, that would be great! What time, and should we bring anything?"

"Be there at seven and, no, just bring yourselves. I'll take care of the rest." With a smile and wave, she headed for the door.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Bruce heard his lover curse with frustration. Putting down his toothbrush, he stepped out into the bedroom. "Problem, babe?" he quietly asked.

"Oh, this damned watch band. I keep meaning to get it fixed, but–" John trailed off as Bruce came over and examined the stubborn closure. After a moment he fiddled with it and was able to get the clasp closed.

"Nervous?" Bruce wondered, reaching out and brushing his fingers over his lover's cheek.

"Maybe a little," Johnny admitted. "I know it's just Walt and Sarah, and they've known about us almost from the start, but just because marriage is legal for us now doesn't mean everyone is going to approve."

The other man shrugged. "It's not everyone's approval we're lookin' for, though. It's the mother of your son and her husband." Bruce paused, then added with concern, "Who just happens to be the town sheriff and legally carries a big gun."

That last part made the psychic chuckle. "C'mon, Bruce. Walt had a lot to do with us getting together in the first place. You know he's not going to be a problem."

"Probably not," his lover allowed. "But what about Sarah?"

"What about her?" John shrugged, turning to check out his appearance in the mirror. Talking with Bruce had allowed him to see that his fears were overblown. "She moved on and got married. Now, it's my turn."

"Yeah, except that you're marrying a guy." Stepping up behind his partner, Bruce wrapped his arms around the other man, staring at their dual reflection in the mirror. "I just– I don't want you someday thinking marrying me was a mistake."

"Hey, it's no mistake! I'll admit, it's not what I expected for my life," Johnny said, crossing his arms over Bruce's and hugging. "But now I can't imagine anything else. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that I love you, Bruce. I don't care who knows it, either."

Bruce swallowed hard as he turned John to face him. "I love you, too, babe. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much." 

They exchanged a chaste kiss before heading downstairs. It was time to head to the Bannermans'.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"That was a good meal, Sarah," Bruce said, pushing his plate forward a bit. "I don't get to taste cooking like that very often."

"Hey!" Johnny swatted his lover. "I thought you liked my cooking."

Walt chuckled. "Careful how you answer that, Bruce, either way could be wrong."

"I'm not saying I don't like your cooking," the physical therapist protested. "It's just that Sarah's is different. And different isn't always bad. Right?"

John smiled softly, knowing they were no longer talking about food. "Yeah… okay."

"Well, now that you two have kissed and made up, are you going to tell us your news?" Sarah asked, smirking. She stood behind Walt now, her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"News?" Walt asked, looking puzzled. "What news?"

Bruce shook his head, chuckling softly. "She can still read you like a book, man."

Johnny nodded, all too well aware of the truth of that statement. Looking over at his partner, he reached out his hand. Bruce grasped it, intertwining their fingers and squeezing gently in reassurance.

"C'mon, guys, the suspense is killing me!" Walt complained good-naturedly.

Clearing his throat, Johnny nodded. "Okay, well, you both know that Bruce and I have been together a while now. Lately, we've decided that we want more than just living together."

"More?" Sarah gaped at them as she struggled to understand. Then her eyes widened. "More, as in…?"

"Marriage?" It was Walt who said it first. "You guys are getting married?" His wide grin was genuine, and he got up and came around the table, shaking hands with both men in turn.

John was relieved that Walt had taken the news in stride, but the jury was still out on Sarah. He looked over at her, finding her watching him, them, with an intent expression on her face. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but Johnny couldn't tell if they were sad or happy.

"Sarah?" he finally called out.

"Oh, Johnny…" Quickly walking around the table, Sarah threw her arms around her former fiancé in a tight hug. "I've been hoping you'd find someone who loved you as much as I did. I'm so glad for you." She turned to Bruce, hugging him just as tightly. "You too, Bruce, but you make sure you take care of him, or you'll have me and JJ to answer to, got it?"

"And me!" Walt added, still grinning. He knew some might think his happiness was due to the elimination of a rival for Sarah's love, but that hadn't been an issue between him and John for a long time. The simple truth was that he counted both men as his close friends and he wished them both all the happiness he had found with Sarah.

The four friends spent the rest of the evening discussing plans for the wedding. Walt and Sarah agreed that Johnny would give JJ the news when Johnny picked him up for their next visit.

And then Johnny dropped the other shoe.

"Walt, we'd like you to perform the ceremony for us."

Bannerman's eyes widened in shock. "Me?"

Bruce and Johnny both nodded in agreement. Johnny went on to explain, "There's no way Gene will perform the ceremony. He's been against my relationship with Bruce from the start, and I don't want us to settle for just any clergy or clerk. I–" He turned to look at Bruce, who again nodded his support. "We want to be married by someone who knows what this means to us."

"Wow." Walt found he had to swallow around the lump in his throat before he could answer. "I'd be honored. Thanks, John… Bruce… it means a lot that you knew you could ask."

The dynamic had shifted between the four friends, especially since John and Bruce had become lovers. Walt and John had gone from wary adversaries to colleagues to genuine friends.

If Johnny had to put a word to it, he'd say Walt was family. In a way, he was, since he was raising Johnny's son and married to his ex-fiancée.

Granted, it was an unconventional relationship. But then since waking from his coma, nothing about Johnny's life had been conventional.

He wouldn't know how to cope otherwise, he suspected.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Bruce sat on his mother's comfortable couch, holding her hand. Rose Lewis was dabbing tears from her eyes.

"I just don't understand, Bruce," she said. "This isn't what I expected from you. I want to be happy for my son, but… marrying a man? I've been taught that's not a union God will recognize." She shook her head, torn.

"Mom, I know this is hard for you," Bruce said. "But I love John. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Like you and Daddy. What can be so wrong about that?"

Her eyes were sad. "You really do love him, don't you? And what about him? Will he–? Does he take good care of you?"

Bruce nodded. "The best. He loves me as much as I love him."

"I don't know, Bruce." Rose shook her head again. "I just don't know if I can come and watch you get married."

"I understand, but there was no way I was gonna get married without telling you, Mom." Bruce kissed her cheek. "I'm going up to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Rose Lewis watched her baby leave the room and take the steps two by two. He was headed upstairs to join his … lover. Though both men had agreed to sleep separately they spent their waking hours in each others company. Clearly they were very devoted to each other.

But love? Marriage? Tears pricked at her eyes. Bruce had compared what he and John shared to her marriage with David, Bruce's late father. How could that be? Was it possible for two men to share such a love?

She made her way to her bedroom, feeling old and tired. The world had changed so much and she didn't know if she could continue to change with it.

Once she had completed her evening prayers and climbed into bed, she rolled over to face the picture of her late husband. As she had every night since David's death, she pressed her fingers to her lips and then touched them to the glass frame.

"Maybe it's why the Good Lord called you home when he did, to spare you this. Oh, David, I wish you were here to help me!" Tears fell as she closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

"Rose, they'll be okay, you know."

The deep, beloved voice made her blink. She sat up, looking around. There! David was sitting in his favorite chair by their bedroom window.

"How can you say that?" She didn't question that he was really here or not. This wasn't the first time, and she hoped wouldn't be the last.

"Because things aren't as black and white…" He smiled at the phrase before continuing. "…as they seem, beloved. Let me show you something."

He waved his hand, and Rose gasped as she saw her son. He lay, bleeding and gasping for breath, held close in Johnny Smith's arms. As she watched in horror, John cried out in grief, bowing his head and kissing Bruce's forehead.

She strained to hear his words.

"I love you, Bruce. I'm sorry I never said it before, but I'll make it up to you. Just wait for me. It won't be long," a desolate Johnny Smith whispered to his friend as he continued to rock the damaged body. "It won't be long, I promise." 

The words chilled her. From the look on the blond man's face she had no doubt they were true. And yet, both men were still alive. How was this possible?

"Because they love each other, Rose. They didn't know it at the time, but it was still true nonetheless." He walked over and sat on the bed.

Rose noted distantly that he made no indentation.

"John saw Bruce's death, over and over. And he fought, right up until he found the way to stop it, risking his own death in the process." David sighed heavily. "Rose, if our boy had died, John would have followed him. Make no mistake about it. He would have forsaken his life, his son, and whatever God plans for his future, to be with his heart's desire."

"Heart's desire? That's pretty strong, David," she said.

"You're right, it is, but look at them together. Can you tell me another word for what they mean to each other?" He let that sink in. "Rose, our Lord hasn't seen fit to tell me whether He thinks it's right or wrong. But it's not my place to judge. I love our son, and he's made his choice. From where I sit it looks like a good choice."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Rose woke with a start, blinking the sleep from her eyes. She checked the bedside clock, not surprised to find that only a few hours had passed since she'd fallen asleep.

A clatter of pans from the kitchen made her frown. Donning her robe and slippers, she opened the door and looked down the hall. Light from the stairway assured her at least it wasn't an intruder. The door to Bruce's room was closed but the guest room door was open.

Poor boy can't sleep, she realized. Small wonder – strange house, strange bed, stressful circumstances.

She walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Not wanting to startle him, Rose cleared her throat.

"Mr. Smith, is there something I can help you with?" She hoped her voice didn't sound too stiff.

He whirled to face her, his face bright red. "Mrs. Lewis! Uh, I'm– I couldn't sleep." He shrugged, clearly ill at ease. "I thought maybe some warm milk might help. I'm so sorry for waking you."

"It's a rare occasion when I sleep though the night, Mr. Smith," she said, managing to find a small smile.

"Please, call me John," he requested. "I hear Mr. Smith and I look around expecting them to be talking to someone else."

"All right, John." Rose gestured to the stove. "Why don't you sit down and let me do it? I used to heat milk for Bruce all the time when he was a boy. I think I can still remember how I did it."

He grinned. "I'd appreciate that. Bruce teases that I can't be trusted to do much more than boil water. I've been trying to learn, though."

That made her chuckle softly. "As an only child, he did end up learning more about cooking than most other boys, but he never seemed to mind."

"He takes good care of me," John admitted.

Something wistful in his tone caught Rose's attention and she turned to him, never slowing her stirring of the milk in the pot.

"And is that all there is to this… relationship, John?" she asked sharply. "Him taking care of you?"

The blond winced, realizing he should have anticipated that. He shook his head vigorously in denial.

"No. No, that's not what it's about, Mrs. Lewis. First and foremost, I love your son. I can't even imagine my life any more without him in it." Memories of that one time it had been so close skittered across his vision and he shivered. "I don't want a life that doesn't include him any more."

"John–"

"No, wait. Please, hear me out," he requested, leaning forward. "I know you're not in favor of us marrying and, believe it or not, I can understand why. But we love each other, and neither of us is ashamed of that. And yet there's more to it. Bruce takes care of me, yes. By marrying, there are ways I can give some of that back."

"Financially," she said, her lips tight.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead. How to explain that yes, it was a part of it, but there was so much more?

"Mrs. Lewis, I won't deny that's a part of it. I don't want your son to ever have to worry. I know he can stand on his own. He's done fine on his own all these years. But if things ever change, this is my way of giving back." He paused. "There's another reason, too. It's a matter of rights, Mrs. Lewis."

"Rights." And then she remembered back a few months when Bruce had his appendix removed. How John had called her, frustrated, because the hospital was giving him a hard time about Bruce's bills.

Rose remembered a news piece she had seen over a year ago. A young lesbian couple, the one stricken by cancer, were fighting the hospital administration's rule that only family be allowed visits. The partner was given no consideration regarding care or planning for her lover's future.

She couldn't speak for John, but Rose Lewis knew her son. If something happened to his lover – this man he treasured so deeply – and he wasn't able to help, it would destroy him. Tears welled in her eyes as she suddenly understood.

Seeing that the milk was ready, she pulled a cup from the cupboard and poured it, placing it on the table in front of her guest.

"David was right," she whispered, wringing her hands.

"Pardon?" Johnny knew David was her late husband. Had he known about Bruce?

Mrs. Lewis shook her head. "It's not important, son. And I think I understand what you and Bruce have been trying to tell me. I just– Give an old lady some time to get used to the idea. Please?"

"Of course." John blinked in astonishment. He had never expected even this much acceptance. She had called him son! Not Mr. Smith or even John… son.

"I'm going back to bed now. Just leave your dishes in the sink. I'll take care of them in the morning." Lightly brushing her fingers over his cheek, she smiled sadly and headed for the stairs.

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

 

Sarah sat near the front of the small chapel, reflecting on how odd it was to be here at the wedding of her ex-fiancé with her husband and son both taking part in the ceremony. Not to mention that said ex was marrying another man.

When Johnny had first told her the news, she had been upset. Not that she didn't expect him to ever move on, that would have been unrealistic, but with a man?

Walt, sensing her disquiet, had gotten her to talk about it. He reminded her that John's circumstances weren't exactly usual. As a psychic there were few people he let get close to him. Bruce had been included in that inner circle from the time the two had met.

Their devotion to each other over the years was the stuff Sarah had only read about in novels or seen on far-fetched movies. Walt sometimes jokingly called them Butch and Sundance.

Somewhere along the way that friendship and devotion had deepened to love. And that love brought passion with it. Amazingly to those that knew him, Johnny didn't try to fight the obvious attraction for long. The old Johnny, pre-coma, wouldn't have given it a second thought.

The Johnny Smith who was about to get married was no longer the man she had fallen in love with as a girl. In a way that made today easier to bear.

Sarah looked around at the small gathering of friends and relatives. Well, Bruce's relatives, anyway. Johnny had no one, except for JJ.

She recognized some of the staff from the hospital here, as well as several of Walt's officers from the Sheriff's Department. There were a couple several rows behind her that she knew had to be Bridget and Sean, whose wedding had prompted Johnny to propose to Bruce. She definitely wanted to meet them later.

Bruce's mom was here, sitting in front. She was calm and composed, smiling serenely at the other guests as they greeted her. Sarah knew some of Bruce's relatives were here, although she didn't know them by name. She wondered if Johnny did yet.

The processional music began and everyone stood to face the back of the chapel. Sarah's eyes misted as JJ appeared in the doorway. Dressed in a dove grey tuxedo with a light blue cummerbund, he took slow measured steps down the aisle. He carried a silk pillow on which two matching rings could be seen. Although he was a little older than the average ring bearer, he didn't seem at all bothered by that thought.

Sarah watched as he approached the front, smiling gently as she saw Walt discreetly direct him where to stand.

Bruce and John had agreed on a simple wedding, with Walt and Sarah signing as witnesses after the formalities. There would be no groomsmen or attendants standing with them, which left them next in the procession. They entered together, arm in arm, and Sarah's eyes misted over. Both looked handsome in their matching grey tuxes. Their cummerbunds were a shade darker than JJ's.

Just before they began their walk, John turned to Bruce. From her vantage point Sarah could read his lips clearly: I love you, Bruce.

She couldn't see Bruce's reply but his soft smile said it for him.

They walked unhurriedly down the aisle, stopping just short of where Walt was standing. Some unseen signal passed between the three of them and the sheriff cleared his throat and began the ceremony.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Bruce stood clasping John's hands. He concentrated on his partner while keeping half an ear focused on Walt. Later, he would marvel at John's bedrock calm. John never faltered, never missed a beat or a response, as if he'd been preparing for this moment all of his life. In a way, perhaps he had.

Feeling John squeeze his hand, he realized they had come to the exchanging of the rings and vows.

"Do you, John Richard Smith, take this man as your lawfully wedded spouse, to protect and honor, love and cherish, for the rest of your life, until death do you part?"

At John's affirmation, Walt continued, "You may now repeat your vows."

As John slipped the gold band on Bruce's left hand he recited the vows they had worked on together. They had found them online and personalized them.

Once John had finished, Walt turned to Bruce.

"And do you, Bruce Alan Lewis, take this man as your lawfully wedded spouse, to protect and honor, love and cherish, for the rest of your life, until death do you part?"

"Yes." Bruce hoped that sounded as strong as he thought. He took John's ring from JJ and slipped it onto John's hand.

"Then you may now repeat your vows."

They came to mind easier than Bruce suspected, due in part to John's near relentless coaching. He kept his gaze focused on his lover, as they had done many times in practice. As he said the final words, John squeezed his hands again, and he returned the pressure.

"And now by the power given to me by the state of Maine, it is my great pleasure to pronounce you legally wedded spouses." Walt grinned widely. "You may now kiss your husband."

Loud applause nearly drowned out Walt's introduction of the couple.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

They had hired a wedding planner, given the short amount of time they had to put the celebration together. Part of her agreed upon duties was to make sure the house was open and the caterers ready to receive the guests while the happy couple had pictures taken.

It was a beautiful New England spring day and they chose to stop at the pond that was their usual fishing hang-out. Being that it was such a picturesque place, the town planning committee had installed a gazebo for such occasions as this.

The limousine driver took the scenic route back to the Smith estate, allowing ample time for everyone else to arrive.

Both men had agreed that they didn't want to be announced, especially in their own home. They planned to simply walk around to the back of the house where the tables and chairs had been set up.

As the couple came around the side of the house they could tell the party was in full swing. Music could be heard along with the sound of laughter. The first people they saw were Walt and Sarah, who were talking with Bridget and Sean.

John stopped short, pulling Bruce back with him, out of sight.

"John? What's up, babe?" Bruce questioned softly. His heart was hammering.

"Nothing, I'm fine." Meeting his spouse's gaze, John leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. "I just wanted my first kiss with my husband at our house to be private, that's all."

Bruce swallowed hard. He still had this irrational fear that he was going to wake up and this would be some fantastic dream. Some days he still couldn't believe they were lovers, and now they were legally married.

Married… As in Bruce and John Lewis-Smith.

"I love you, John," he whispered, cupping John's face and drawing him close for another kiss.

"Aw, man!" A very familiar, young voice groaned with disgust. "Mom, Dad, they're at it again!"

The newlyweds broke apart, both sputtering with laughter as they recognized the tattletale as JJ.

"I'm sorry, Bruce," John said after a moment, his face coloring.

"Hey, hey, it's not about us, John. I've heard him say the same thing when he sees Walt and Sarah kiss." Bruce soothed his spouse. "He's a kid. It's a normal reaction."

Walt and Sarah walked over to them, grinning widely.

"Well, the blushing grooms finally decided to make an appearance at their reception," Walt teased. "We were beginning to think you had the driver pull over somewhere."

"I have to admit, the thought did cross my mind," John quipped, grinning at his husband. "After all, have you ever seen a more handsome groom?"

"John, stop," Bruce protested. Privately he figured he had seen a more handsome groom, his spouse, but he wasn't about to get into a beauty debate at their reception.

JJ ran up to join them. Remembering his manners, he said, "Congratulations, Johnny. To you, too, Mister Lew– uh, Mister–" He faltered, looking uncertain. "What do I call you, now?"

As his parents chuckled, Bruce put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "What would you be comfortable with, JJ?"

The youth gave it several moments of consideration, then his face brightened. "I know! How about Uncle Bruce?"

"Uncle Bruce… yeah, I like that." He grinned, he and the boy exchanging high fives.

"Now that we have that settled, let's join the rest of the party," Walt suggested, nodding toward the reception.

As they walked, Sarah joined Johnny.

"You and Bruce make a great couple, Johnny. I'm happy for you both," she told him.

"Are you, really?" John hoped it was true. He hoped that now he and Sarah could both move on with their lives, content with their respective spouses.

"Yes, I am. Bruce obviously loves you, and you love him." She smiled. "There's a part of me that will always regret what could have been, but knowing what I do now? I don't think I'd change it if I could." She looked at her husband, who was walking ahead with Bruce.

John followed her gaze, focusing on Bruce. "I wouldn't either."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

* ~ *

**With This Ring Vows**

_With this ring, I give you my promise_  
That, from this day forward  
You won't walk alone. 

_May my heart be your shelter,  
And my arms be your home._

_May you always be blessed with health._  
May we walk together through all things.  
May you feel deeply loved, for truly you are. 

_With this ring, I give you my heart._  
I have no greater gift to give.  
I promise I shall do my best. I shall always try. 

_You are my heart's desire, my one true love.  
I am honored to call you my life, my heart, my spouse._

_May we feel this passion and joy, forever.  
Walk with me, hand in hand._

_Forever._

**Author's Note:**

> Wedding vows based on "With This Ring" vows from unionofhope.com. They have been slightly altered to suit the characters in this story.


End file.
